I Think She Kissed Me
by CokeBottleK
Summary: Another oh-so-clever, broom-cupboard attempt to woo the unyielding Lily Evans. But in the end, perhaps it's not quite that hopeless. L/J. One-shot.


**DISCLAIMER: No matter how many times I check my identity information, I've yet to wake up as J.K. Rowling, so… not mine. Cover art by anxiouspineapples. **

_Hola! So in chapter 10 of_ Dangerous Crowds_, I alluded to this situation that James and Lily found themselves in during their fifth year, and I decided that I wanted to do a one-shot about it. This is not in any way an extension of ARE/DC; it was just a casual mention that fleshed out into its own one-shot, which I present to you here, in all its one-shotty glory._

_Bon appétit. _

* * *

**I Think She Kissed Me**

"Well, Evans, as long as we're here…"

Lily scowled up at the dimly lit but nevertheless grinning face of James Potter. He thought he was so clever, didn't he? Catching her hand in the middle of the corridor and dragging her off to the nearest broom cupboard, completely wandless thanks to the deft hands of one Sirius Black, who – along with Remus and Peter, who she had so foolishly trusted at some point in time – were standing on the other side of the door, sniggering and waiting to see how their oh-so-very-clever friend fared in yet another endeavor to woo the unyielding Lily Evans.

It was _pathetic_.

But while Lily could attribute all sorts of derogatory adjectives to this plot – pathetic, stupid, immature, on and on, _ad nauseam_ – that didn't change the fact that she was stuck in that broom cupboard with James sodding bleeding buggering Potter until he saw fit to release her.

Stupid twat.

"You don't actually think I'm going to snog you, do you?" she asked, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow. If she couldn't get herself out of there, well, she sure as hell was going to make this experience as difficult for him as she could.

As was custom, though, James just shot her that old cheeky smirk and spread his hands. "What else are we going to do?" he said, as if that was a sound argument. "We could be stuck here for hours, Evans; you might as well give in to your baser instincts."

He winked at her. "You know you like me."

Lily snorted. "Hardly."

"Come on." James lifted a hand so she could get a look at his forefinger and thumb, which he held about a millimeter apart. "Just a little bit?"

Lily leaned against the wall. "Not in the slightest."

That, of course, wasn't true. James knew that well enough – they were, after all, sort of friends, and they actually got on quite well when he wasn't hexing Snape (not that _that_ mattered anymore, not really, Lily thought darkly) or doing something equally daft.

Like locking the pair of them in a broom cupboard.

Knowing what he did, though, James just kept grinning while Lily sulked just two steps away from him. He was rather pleased with himself. Lily could scowl all she liked, but the fact of the matter was that he'd already pulled off the first part of his plan without a hitch: They were stuck in a small, confined space, and no matter what she said to the contrary, James knew that she had at least a little bit of a thing for him.

Maybe that was just the arrogance talking, but James shrugged it off. It had only been two weeks since the incident by the lake after their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., and he'd been feeling rotten ever since. He didn't blame himself and he wasn't sorry for picking a fight with Snivellus, but he _was_ sorry for how it had affected Lily, because she was never supposed to get hurt. He'd told her as much and she'd ended up forgiving him, and James was sure that had to be a good thing.

So here he was, knee-deep in another half-assed scheme to get Lily Evans to go on one measly little date with him. Or to just snog him right there in the broom cupboard, really, he wasn't picky.

"Evans," James said seriously, and he took a step forward, "we could be here for _hours_."

"Right, you mentioned that." Lily rolled her eyes in an attempt to ignore the way her heart skipped up into her throat when James moved closer. _You don't fancy him, you don't fancy him, you absolutely do not fancy James Potter…_ "But we wouldn't have to be here at all if it weren't for your complete idiocy."

"Idiocy?" James laughed. "I don't think so. I just so happen to be stuck in a dark, cramped space for an inordinate amount of time with _you_, Lily light-of-my-life Evans. I reckon I'm a genius."

Lily kicked him and tried to bite back a smile. "Oh, shut up."

James grinned at the laughter he heard in her voice. She could play mad all she wanted, but Lily had always been good for a joke, even if it was at her expense; as long as no one got hurt, it was fair game. James knew her just well enough to know that much.

"See?" James reached over to trace the upturned corners of her lips, and she slapped his hand away. "You're happy. You _like_ this."

"I do not," Lily scoffed. All right, so she didn't care how much she may or may not fancy the arrogant berk, but that didn't mean that he had to _know_. As if he needed his ego inflated. "In fact, if I had my wand on me, you would know just how much I don't like this."

"Yeah, it's too bad you don't have your wand on you."

"Just wait 'til we get out of here, Potter, and you'll be sorry."

"You know," James said slowly, measuring his next words carefully in his mind, "it's really up to you how soon we get out of here."

"_Me?"_ Lily kicked him again. "This is all your fault – your sodding, _brilliant_ plan! I'm not responsible for getting us out of here."

James tapped his finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Actually, yeah, you sort of are."

Lily raised her eyes to the ceiling and released a long, low breath. "Oh, do tell."

Well, she asked for it… "All right," James said and shrugged, his smile nearly splitting his face in two. "Go out with me, and I'll let you out of this broom cupboard."

"Oh, Merlin." Lily blew some hair out of her face. "You're such a tosser."

"One date, Evans, and I grant you your freedom."

"Potter, we've got a week left of school before summer hols. Can't you just give it a rest?"

James snorted. "Never."

Loathe as she was to admit it, Lily really couldn't help her smile that time. "I hate you."

"You really don't, though." James lifted one of his hands to ruffle its way through his hair. "But okay, maybe you're right. I can pick up the courtship in September. For now why don't you just kiss me and we'll call it even?"

"Aargh!" Lily groaned and smacked him upside the head. "That is absolutely no better than you asking me out, you know that? You idiot."

"You should really stop calling me names," James said in a tone of faux-petulance. "You'll hurt my feelings."

"Oh, poor you," Lily gushed sarcasm, "however can I make it up?"

James shot her another wink. "You could kiss me."

"Sod off."

"Fine." James shrugged like it didn't matter, although of course it did – Lily Evans always mattered, but he wasn't quite a big enough pansy to admit that out loud just yet. "I suggest you make yourself comfortable, Evans; we're going to be here for awhile."

James crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to her, mirroring her position exactly, but otherwise quite content to just stand there like that until whenever she was ready to admit defeat and kiss him already.

They were silent for a few moments, James leaning, Lily twisting her fingers together. The air was thick and almost suffocating, heavy with tension because really, who was she kidding? She wanted to kiss James Potter and he practically had her cornered, didn't he? She shot him a sideways look – still grinning, still leaning, and _God_, she wanted to kiss him, she really did…

"James," she broke the silence to prevent herself from jumping him then and there, "we're not seriously going to spend the next however-many hours in here, are we?"

"Sure we are." James met her sideways look. "Unless you want to change your mind."

"You're impossible," Lily said, nudging him. "It's always your way or no way, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he conceded, and nudged her right back, "sounds about right."

They were quiet again, just long enough that Lily didn't allow any real time to talk herself out of it, and then she said, "So… just one kiss, then, and I'm out of here?"

James nearly jumped out of his skin. "Wha– what?"

Lily felt the heat blossom across her face and even though it was dark in the broom cupboard, she purposefully avoided his gaze. "You know," she said, "I just – I don't exactly have hours to spend locked up in a closet with James I'm-an-impossible-wanker Potter, that's all."

"Is that right?" One of James's hands went to his hair. He wasn't sure whether or not he was supposed to smile or vomit, and his body – his nerves, more like – screamed for him to do both. "So you want to kiss me?"

_Yes._

"That is not what I said. Do you want to kiss _me_?"

_Every day of my miserable sodding life._

"Absolutely."

"Right then." Lily turned to face him and James did the same, both of them trying not to throw up the butterflies that had exploded amidst this conversation. Their brains swam with _oh god oh god oh my fucking god _and their blood hummed with nerves and Lily really didn't mean for it to last much longer than a peck, a chaste lip-on-lip, because no, of course she couldn't fancy him (but she did, of course she did), and James didn't want to push his luck because Merlin knew this was one of those once-in-a-blue-moon, can't-believe-your-luck occasions, but then…

Lily caught his tie around her fingers and pulled, hard, until James's mouth was on hers, and a shockwave rocked from his body to hers, jolting their nerves so that they zoomed, popped, whizzed around their muscles and melted their bones into first-kiss putty. Her lips parted involuntarily, ever so slightly, and James's followed suit so that their breath mingled together, warm and sweet and vaguely minty.

James's hands flew to her waist, fingers biting into the curves there, determined to hold on for as long as she would let him because who knew when he'd get to do this again? Soon, he wagered, but likely not soon enough. One of Lily's hands stayed curled around his tie and the other twisted into his hair like she'd wanted to do for ages – he was always messing it up like the twit that he was, and she'd been rather curious as to what was so spectacular about it that he couldn't keep his hands away. Now that she experienced it for herself, she understood the appeal.

Neither of them particularly wanted to stop, but in order for a first kiss to branch out into the eventuality of more, it has to stop sometime.

And so, all too soon – it would always be too soon – they broke apart to breathe, and that second was enough to regulate their nerves and re-solidify their bones. James remembered that this had all just been a clever ruse to get a date, and Lily remembered that she couldn't let him get the best of her, but still their pulses twitched happily in their wrists and the base of their throats.

James's eyebrows were up, his breathing was shallow, and he felt oddly dizzy. "Bloody hell."

"Yeah. That." Lily cleared her throat and smoothed out her wrinkle-free shirt. Her knees were knocking together and her legs felt like jelly, and there was a very pleasant lightheaded sensation swirling through her brain. "Well. I have to go."

James nodded mutely. He couldn't seem to bring himself to say anything other than that two-word oath, so he _Alohomora_'d the door and waved absentmindedly at his friends, who were still waiting on the other side of it.

Sirius lifted an eyebrow at Lily's flushed skin. "Well," he said, dutifully handing her wand over, "looks like you've earned this back."

"You prat." Lily stomped on his foot as she moved her way past them all, very pointedly avoiding their curious looks and trying to keep her smile from splitting her face in two. "See you lot around."

As soon as she was out of earshot, the three Marauders turned to the fourth, curious expressions locked into place, and almost-identical mischievous glints dancing in their eyes as they asked, "What happened?"

"I, uh…" Dazed, James touched his fingers to his lips, which were still tingling with the faint aftertaste of some kind of sugar that definitely wasn't his. He watched that red sheet of hair ripple and disappear down the corridor and he felt his heart soar, like it was giving itself a congratulatory _whoop!_, and he smiled. Still dazed, confused, but so over-the-moon ecstatic that it didn't matter.

So he kept smiling and his heart kept doing figure eights around his ribcage, and he kept touching his lips and they still tasted like some kind of sugar, and now he knew – really knew – that there was just no way in hell he was ever giving up.

"I think she kissed me."


End file.
